The Angel
by Lilec Hamira Amdciez
Summary: Or, Six Questions Every Curious Cat Must Ask, Whether Or Not The Answer Is Honest. Or even, Getting Drunk And Talking To A Stranger Who Might Be A Reporter About How You Used To Stalk Your Now-Captain Boyfriend Isn't Smart. Slash. Jim/maleOC. Movie'verse.


**_content, summary edited as of April 16, 2011; author's notes untouched._**

**Author's Note:** Again, THIS IS SLASH. The plot bunny just attacked me one night and I _had _to write it. If it doesn't make much sense to you, don't worry. It doesn't make much sense to me either. But please tell me what you think! Unbeta'd.

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><p><em>what:<em>

He used to watch Jim Hawkins – not that he'd ever admit it to anyone he knew (particularly if he was sober, which, for the record, he isn't). In fact, he has no idea why he's telling _you _of all people his most fiercely guarded secret. But he is, and he's trusting you not to tell anyone else. Jim doesn't even know, for heaven's sake!

But back to the subject.

He used to watch Jim Hawkins. Not in a stalkerish way, mind; he didn't watch Jim Hawkins like _that._ More like the guardian angel the young man lacked. Only the deity of your choice would know why – Jim sure needed one. So he decided to fill the vacancy and be that for Jim Hawkins.

:

_when:_

He doesn't know the exact time he took the position; it was a gradual thing. He can, however, tell you that the first time he saw the boy – they were both boys then – was at the Benbow Inn. His parents had gone there for business and the lack of babysitter made him tag along. Jim was busing tables. And he can tell you that at first, he had no interest in Jim besides the curiosity natural for all twelve-year-olds. And he can tell you that his boyhood self and Jim's boyhood self were never really friends – they ran in different circles that rarely ever intersected. But he probably won't.

Instead, he'll tell you this: Jim Hawkins was the kind of person who caught your eye – a good-looking adrenaline-junky with a rattail and a complete disregard for the law. He'll tell you that Jim didn't have very many close friends, that Jim had very few friends at all, and didn't have anyone to worry about him besides his mother. He'll tell you that he was concerned, and so he took it upon himself to look out for the kid. (Jim is only two years younger than him, though.) He'll tell you that "Jim Hawkins' Guardian Angel" is a title he has taken on pretty recently (read: has had for nearly seven years).

:

_where:_

Where what? Where did he watch? Where did he find? Where did he save? The answer to those questions is the same: Construction sites and other hazardous places. He would watch from the safer areas as Jim took to his board, praising his talent slightly and wondering why the Hawkins boy craved freedom so much. Occasionally, Jim would be angry and reckless – more than usual – and only then would he step in. Using a long network of connections (no, you'll never find out who), he would arrange for safety measures, roadblocks, things to use for first aid, and, very rarely, police.

And when they'd meet on some street or at the Benbow and talk, he would say nothing of his involvement.

:

_how:_

He laughs. (You have quite a strange pattern of question-asking.) And, in a very conspiratorial tone, says that exactly _how_ he managed to do these things was only for him to know.

:

_why:_

He played angel for many reasons. For one, it was enjoyable. For another, it felt good. And he'll willingly tell you these. But the real reason (if you give him another pint, he'll probably tell you this, too) is that Jim Hawkins fascinated him. And that – though the only realized this later – he loved Jim, even then. If he accidentally slips and almost says the last one, he'll replace "Jim" with "the thrill of it." Give him that extra pint, and he'll say that he wanted Jim to make something of himself, which he has.

:

_who:_

The topic of conversation walks in. Jim is noticeably less drunk than he is, even if this party is in celebration of Jim's captaincy.

"Hey, Jim."

Jim catches his eye and walks up to him – by extension, you – and, to your general disbelief, slips an arm around him.

"Meet my new friend." His voice doesn't give much indication of his current state of drunkenness aside from a very slight slur.

"Hey," Jim says to you," I'm gonna take him home before he does something stupid."

And your "new friend" stands, snorting. "Says the man who _danced to He__y Diddle, Diddle on top of a pool table _when _he _was drunk." However, he doesn't argue when Jim leads him out, their arms around each other.

They're nearly gone when you jump out of your seat (metaphorically) and trot up to them. Jim eyes you oddly when you say, "Who are you?"

He laughs and whispers in your ear so quick you barely catch it –

"Jim Hawkins' Guardian Angel."

– and they're gone before you can ask further.

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><p>Somehow I feel like the quality of my writing has gone downhill. . . .*sigh*. Nothing to be done about it. I really miss being able to indent.<p>

Can you tell that this is my first TP fic?


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